"Every time," said I, picking up the book. I shouldered her clubs and together we scrambled over the rise and down towards the fifth tee.
"Oh, I told you I adored you, didn't I?" I said suddenly.
"I don't think so."
"Surely I did. Perhaps you were asleep."
"Asleep!" she said scornfully. "I was awake all the time. I nearly died when you began to read."
I stopped short and looked at her. "You are a deceitful witch." I said.
"A what witch?"
"The which to adore," said I.
After the fourth hole the course lies inland. For the next ten holes you play directly away from the sea. Then the fifteenth takes a sharp turn to the left, skirting the deer-park of Mote Abbey, while the sixteenth bears to the left again, heading straight for the club-house and the coast once more.
My lady was a pretty player. I gave her two strokes a hole and led till the fourteenth, but on that green she holed a ten-foot putt which made us all square.